No Game No Life, Vol. 3

by Yuu Kamiya

  …Why, after coming to a fantasy world, was he still being lectured about X and Y chromosomes? Shiro, her hair being washed by Steph, answered for him.

  “…No, thanks…”

  Sora, looking up at the ceiling—no, at the invisible sky, cried unmanly tears.

  “Come on now, fantasy… In a world with covenants and magic, how can you not just change someone’s goddamn sex! Get off your ass, stupid world; put some effort into it!!”

  Though Sora cried out, all he could do now was to paint the heavenly expanse behind him in his mind. And leave it all to the power of man’s toil by the sweat of his brow—trusting in the science of the three cameras…

  Elkia Royal Castle—the library. Sora and Shiro had apparently come here directly after getting out of the bath. Shiro, with her wet hair still wrapped in a towel, was intently hammering away some scrawl on the blackboard. Beside her, Sora was fiddling with the tablet while drawing lines on countless sheets of paper. The sun starting to go down, all that illuminated the room was the flame of flickering candles and Sora’s tablet. The clownish atmosphere present just a moment ago—was now nowhere to be found in their serious faces.

  “—…”

  Having thought to say something before she went home, Chlammy stood still. Countless sheets of paper were strewn about the room, some scratched out, some Xed. The meaning of the array of symbols being bashed on the board, of the countless lines being drawn by Sora, was not entirely comprehensible to her even with the gift of Sora’s memory. However—she had an idea. After one deep breath, Chlammy stepped into the room.

  “…Is this your strategy to vanquish the Eastern Union?”

  “Mm, sorry, don’t talk to Shiro—well, I guess even if you do she won’t notice.”

  As if she’d not even noticed them talking. Shiro, unblinking, went on scratching countless equations onto the board, very much like a machine.

  “Eh, frankly this is Shiro’s field. I’ve got no clue; I’m just acting as an assistant.”

  What Sora was drawing with his right hand looked to Chlammy clearly like strategic maps. However, what he was looking at on the tablet he manipulated with his left hand—

  “You ask why I am reviewing the footage from the bath just now?”

  “…If you’re expecting a reaction like Stephanie Dola’s from me, you’ll be disappointed.”

  “Not too convincing when you’re blushing and covering your breasts.”

  —Forget it, she had been wrong to expect to have a meaningful conversation with this man. As Chlammy turned away with these thoughts, Sora’s voice stopped her.

  “You came to ask if we can really win, right?”

  —Chlammy was reminded how distasteful she found this man. He seemed to have developed a habit of breaking others’ strides. This was clear already from the memories she had received—but all the more for that. There was one thing that weighed on her.

  “—Yes, that is right.”

  “You know the answer, don’t you? You have my memories.”

  “They don’t explain everything.”

  Yes, she still couldn’t understand. The strategy Sora and Shiro had developed together was, indeed, a splendid work, a humbling feat. But—no matter how she looked at it, there was a flaw. And yet Sora, knowing that flaw—had come to the conclusion that there was no problem. No matter where she looked in Sora’s memories, she could not find a basis for the confidence that made him so sure.

  “It is certainly possible in theory. But theory is one thing—”

  There was a common observation she could make about the chess game they’d played with her and the Othello match—no. About the whole range of games Sora remembered ever playing—which was.

  “If you make one wrong step, you’ll be at the bottom of the gorge, won’t you. How do you call that ‘unbeatable’?”

  —Yes, so many matches decorated in victory in Sora’s memory. But all of them were built on too dangerous a tightrope. How could this be called “unbeatable”? But then Sora spoke, looking back at Chlammy as if sincerely taken by surprise.

  “It’s not unbeatable if we make one wrong step. That’s why we have to not make one wrong step, right?”

  —This was it. No matter how hard she searched through Sora’s memories, she couldn’t find the basis for this claim.

  “How can you be sure you won’t make a single mistake?”

  While Chlammy addressed him glaringly, Sora still answered with a laugh.

  “Ha-ha-ha, well, that’s impossible. If it were just me, I’d definitely screw it up…but—”

  Fffft. Sora’s eyes shifted, and she followed them—to the white genius. Fiercely bashing more equations onto the board, the white, white, eleven-year-old girl.

  “—Blank is a different story. Even if I misstep, there’s Shiro.”

  The phrase that filled Sora’s memories—“ ” doesn’t lose. Chlammy, having come this far, finally realized a fact she’d overlooked. The Othello game they’d played for each other’s existence. The last three pieces she’d been unable to take—three elements that were more important than his very being. Now she had a feeling she knew what they governed.

  (…I see. It’s because I only have the memories of Sora individually that it doesn’t look unbeatable…that explains it.) The existence of a sister he valued more than his own existence—Shiro. If that was what made him say that the two-in-one gamer’s strategy, though it seemed like walking out from a cliff balancing on a cotton string, was unbeatable. Then she, who had failed to take that trust from him—could never understand his confidence. But the countless words Sora had spoken to Shiro. And the countless words he had told himself.

  “—You…found your wings, didn’t you.”

  “Mm?”

  And, imitating Sora, Chlammy grinned and spoke.

  “—‘Hey, Shiro, they say people can change, but is that really true’…huh.”

  “Wha—?!”

  —There it was. She’d wanted to see his expression. Thus, Chlammy smiled contentedly at the blushing Sora and turned away.

  “It’s pretty embarrassing, but I must say I respect that way of thinking. Why don’t you take pride in it?”

  “Shut up!”

  “Must be tough to have such a good sister. Leaves you with something to prove, doesn’t it—dear—big—bro-ther. ”

  “Look, you—just go home already! People are gonna get suspicious if you stick around in Elkia too long!”

  As she left, many things went through Chlammy’s head. But she decided not to say them. Instead, she turned—and left one short comment.

  “—I believe…in ‘human potential.’”

  The words that returned were sullen, yet strong.

  “No shit. You’re human, too.”

  Closing her eyes at these words, Chlammy left Elkia’s castle.

  CHAPTER 3

  KILLING GIANTS

  INDUCTION

  Elkia Royal Castle—Presence Chamber. The two monarchs of Immanity resting on the throne, sprawled out as if melting.

  “Hey, this is frickin’ weak… When the hell is the Eastern Union planning to tell us when our game is?”

  “…So, bored…”

  Already almost five days had passed since their exchange with Chlammy and Fiel. After getting their groove on like that, now they were being made to wait until they lost it entirely. Even Steph, usually in the position of chastising them, could say nothing. In the back of the mind of the nervous-looking Steph, a certain possibility flashed.

  “C-could it be they’ve forgotten—or we haven’t got their letter…perhaps?”

  —At Steph, who spoke remembering that previously the letters they had been sending had never arrived. The melted Sora picked himself up and formed a grin more sadistic than ever before.

  “…Ohh? If that’s the case, then someone’s gonna have to be taught a little lesson—ya know?”

  In the back of his mind spinning history’s greatest prank, which he’d saved
as his final trump card—

  “Master, I’m sorry to intrude.”

  Jibril apologized, appearing from thin air. Their gazes locked on the cylinder in her hand. Sora and Shiro sat up violently.

  “Whoa, Jibril! Is that what I—?”

  “Yes, it is a letter from the Eastern Union, indicating their acceptance of the game and the appointed date.”

  Beaming, Jibril continued.

  “It seems it was being suppressed within the Elkia Royal Castle so as to stop the game with the Eastern Union. You see, there was a fellow who started acting suspiciously each time he witnessed me—”

  “Uh… You didn’t…”

  This was Jibril. She couldn’t have killed—

  “Please be at ease. I persuaded him in the most courteous and peaceful manner. Simply looking gently into his eyes and admonishing him lightly was enough for him to moisten his lower body, weep, sob, tell me everything I needed to know, and give me the letter.”

  “I-I see…”

  —The Ten Covenants didn’t cover intimidation, huh? Wait but, then, wouldn’t withholding the letter from them amount to plunder or—But Steph said, holding her head:

  “…I should have known… After all, Immanity’s life is at stake… Someone in the government who hadn’t taken part in the covenant not to make false reports would still have been able to use a game to lift someone’s right to deliver the letter and—”

  …Huh, so Steph really did have a head for politics. Secretly thinking to himself that he should raise his estimation of Steph a bit, Sora continued.

  “—It wasn’t specified when they had to deliver it, I guess. Hey, Immanity, you’re pretty sneaky when it comes to things like this. I wish you’d just use those brains for something more useful to the country.”

  “For now, you are the enemy of Immanity. I think they are applying them perfectly?”

  Steph’s sarcastic reply passed epically over Sora’s head.

  “Let’s seee, then, what does itHey, Shiro, what’s today’s date?”

  “…Twenty-seventh.”

  Strained-faced Sora’s confirmation was answered immediately by Shiro.

  “—D00d, that’s today; today’s supposed to be the game!”

  “Huh?! Uh, um, what time—”

  To a flustered Steph, Sora howled.

  “Starting in the evening—we don’t even have half a day! Come on, everyone get ready fast!”

  “A-all r—”

  “Your humble servant Jibril is ready anytime.”

  “…I’m…all, good…”

  “And her brother, Sora, is also all clear to go anytime! So all of you, let’s go!”

  That Sora and his crew were prepared for takeoff just by standing up stressed Steph out.

  “E-excuse me! Look, th-this is an official battle of nations! At least you need to dress—”

  “What? This is my official regalia. You got a problem with that?”

  Perhaps it was the way of the world that a normal person among weirdos would always be called the weirdo. The three stared at Steph as if to ask, What are you on? to which she replied—

  “—F-fine! Very well, we’ll go as we are!”

  “And so, Masters and little Dora, please clutch onto me. We shall shift to the embassy—”

  “Oh, Jibril, nope.”

  Refusing the maximum-speed mode of transport proffered by Jibril and turning to face Steph, Sora ordered:

  “Steph, prepare a carriage at the front of the castle—we’re gonna go out in style, from the frickin’ front.”

  As Jibril failed to grasp the meaning of his suggestion, Steph was dumbfounded.

  “Wha… D-do you realize there’s a riot out there?!”

  “That’s why—look. Why do you think I started this riot?”

  The grand square before the Elkia Royal Castle, mobbed by demonstrators, a hurricane of invective. Before it, the enormous main gate of Elkia Royal Castle slowly opened with thunderous noise. The rally was ready to launch a barrage of bile upon whosoever should appear—but. At the four who stepped out, silence fell.

  At the steps of the four, the crowd in the square, draped in stillness, parted and made way. Walking at the center with black hair and dark eyes as deep and cold as night was the king—Sora. At his right, with eyes more bewitchingly ruby-red than ever before, the queen—Shiro. Walking a step behind, with amber eyes twinkling quietly, their servant—Jibril. Each of their eyes with their own glow, each filled with an uncommon resolve and a confidence that seemed absolute—that forbade the people to form words.

  …Well, that’s overromanticizing it a little. Mainly it was Jibril’s gaze and placid smile that said it: If you would like to disparage my master, please feel free to do so in exchange for your life. Her overwhelming presence stopped people from even breathing and stole all words from the crowd. Far behind, aquamarine-eyed Steph awkwardly scurried to catch up.

  —In the end, the steps of Sora and his companions allowed not a single word of abuse.

  Steph, having clambered onto the carriage, out of breath, interrogated Sora as she caught her breath.

  “Y-you started the riot—what do you mean?”

  But Sora said to Shiro as if the query was unexpected.

  “Huh, Shiro didn’t explain?”

  “…?”

  As Shiro tilted her head, Sora realized just as he’d said it.

  …It was a stupid question. There was no way Shiro would take the initiative to explain something to one other than Sora.

  “Ohh, it’s like. When I bet the Immanity Piece, I was aiming for—three things.”

  Sora raised three fingers and turned to face Steph.

  “One, it goes without saying, was to drag the Eastern Union into the game. Another, which you probably know, was to lure in Chlammy and draw her to our side. And then the third—”

  Sora, having counted down to his last finger, smiled mischievously.

  “—was the distrustful eyes of the masses.”

  “Huh…?”

  “Who needs a bunch of suckers who just trust that we’re definitely gonna win? What we need is a bunch of assholes who are going to watch the match with bloodshot eyes, wondering if we’re gonna throw it. Effectively, what this will do is to prevent the Eastern Union from cheating blatantly. There’s no spectator you can trust more than one who doesn’t trust you.”

  Sora grinned gleefully. Disregarding Steph’s bewilderment, he called to the coachman with abandon.

  “So get that carriage out. Our destination—Izzy’s house!

  “…Onward!”

  At the outskirts of the capital, Elkia, a towering, giant building positioned just on this side of the border. The embassy of the Eastern Union in Elkia. As Sora’s party got out of the carriage, they were greeted by an aging, white-haired Werebeast in garb resembling Japanese formal wear. The deputy ambassador of the Eastern Union in Elkia—Ino Hatsuse.

  “…We have been awaiting your arrival.”

  “Dude, you’re the ones who made us wait. Come on, you ready for this?”

  Despite Sora talking smack the moment he got down from the carriage, Ino seemed nonetheless to take caution as he answered briefly.

  “…Please, right this way.”

  Guided into the building—the embassy—Sora’s party walked behind Ino, who said nothing.

  “Hey, the old guy’s pretty reticent, isn’t he. What’s his deal?”

  To Sora as he muttered, the guy knew how to get smart with us before. Steph answered with a tired face.

  “After you swindled him into betting the entire continental territory of the Eastern Union, that’s what you have to say?

  “For heaven’s sake—,” said Steph, holding her head. “To be so carefree right before a game played with the Immanity Piece at stake, aren’t you the ones who have something wrong with you?”

  Jibril scanned the scene giddily (despite this being their second time here), practically drooling in fascination at everything she saw.
In contrast, Shiro yawned softly, messing with her phone, while Sora folded his arms behind his head and yammered flightily. Meanwhile, Steph desperately tried to suppress the pain in her stomach.

  “You okay there, Steph? Relax your shoulders. You’re never gonna be able to keep it up like that.”

  “Thank you for your concern. However, the cause of my stomachaches, in 100 percent of cases, is you two…”

  They were led to the same reception chamber as before.

  “…If you will, please wait here for a bit until the appointed time for the game.”

  “Sure thing. And make sure you let in all our spectators, just like we said, okay?”

  Upon Ino’s single bow and wordless departure, Sora spoke as he unhesitatingly stretched out on the sofa.

  “So, Jibril, wake me up when it’s time.”

  “Your wish is my command. Please enjoy your rest.”

  “…Me, too.”

  …and, on the stomach of the supine Sora, Shiro unhesitatingly curled up and closed her eyes. Within only a few seconds, the siblings were breathing with the comfortable sounds of slumber.

  “…I cannot believe this. What kind of sense do they have?”

  In a few short hours would begin a match that would determine the fate of all humans. Given that Steph had been fighting nausea and stomachache since the moment she’d been informed of the game schedule, Jibril, seemingly as at ease as Sora and Shiro, suggested:

  “Dora, why don’t you get some rest as well? According to my masters’ literature, the Immanity brain is at its peak function in the few hours after rising?”

  “If I had the nerves of steel to sleep in this situation, I’d like to—”

  “I understand. Things must be difficult if my masters consider it necessary to do so.”

  “……!”

  These words made Steph’s face contort.

  “It appears that this game demands the full capacity of even my masters. Should this be the case, I suppose I shall have to take it a bit seriously as well.”

  Steph felt her stomachache get even worse. And so—for Steph, the few hours until the start of the game passed as a series of trips between the restroom and the reception room.